Pamela Sinicrope’s most recent poem to appear here was “Shhhhhhhhhhhhh” (September 2016) 

Losing My Pieces
By Pamela Sinicrope

TV says global warming isn’t real,
but glaciers melt,
sea levels rise,
and polar bears walk hungry,
looking like flat-bellied Santas.

I think I will be the first victim.
Already, I see my pieces eroding,
It’s been happening for years.
I’m melting in a memory pool
of family lost, friends leaving.

TV says hoarding is bad.
I see people locked in cages
made of stuff.  All alone,
they’re rotting away
with old food and magazines.

Yet, pieces are still getting lost.
Soon we will be nothing.
When the last piece departs,
is that when we dissolve
into dust?

When Earth is a boiling ocean
will we grow fins and tails,
become mermaids and mermen?
Or, will the cosmic mixes
halt evolution?

They say that life came all at once
and we lived in a beautiful garden.
Now we’re expanding, breaking apart,
swirling in pieces
until nothing becomes everything again.

Is that when the pain of losing you
becomes bearable?